


everybody's having fun to the sound of love

by aheartcalledhome



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Indian James Potter, Male Character of Color, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-05 23:10:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21216599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aheartcalledhome/pseuds/aheartcalledhome
Summary: kids aren't known for mincing words when they're displeased. james and lily potter do not meet under the most favorable of circumstances for either of them to make a good first impression. being soulmates absolutely does not help.





	1. who is your lover?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ohpottermycaptain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohpottermycaptain/gifts).

> my lovely bud [dorcasdeadowes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dorcasdeadowes/), upon being made aware of the premise of this story, responded with "is that not james and lily in a nutshell? idiots to idiots who are also lovers?" and i think that says everything that needs to be said about my entry into jilytober 2019. 
> 
> late, unexpected, unnecessary, but freely available online, just like me.
> 
> fic and chapter titles are from mcfly's transylvania, which has been on repeat as i plan this out for some reason despite being... only sort of relevant? 
> 
> right now, this is supposed to be a four parter, but we'll see what happens. i am notoriously unreliable. let me know what you think! i'd love to hear what you enjoyed!
> 
> as always, much love to ani and congratulations to chara on finishing that thesis! you deserve the world but instead you're getting the canonverse soulmate au of your nightmares.
> 
> -s

A red headed baby screams in a hospital bassinet, fists clenched against the weak January sunlight. Around her ankle, like a noose, are words that haven’t yet been said, won’t be for another eleven years, written in the loose, looping hand of a boy who hasn’t yet been born.

_“What are you doing defending someone like him?”_

Lily Evans cries despite the words, or perhaps because of them, as if she already knows what fate has planned for her.

* * *

James Potter’s words are scrawled above his heart, still raw and bloody hours after his birth, and his parents can hardly bear to look at them. Their long awaited miracle of a son, their gift from gods they weren’t sure existed anymore, and his words are terrible. 

Perhaps they weren’t meant to be parents. Perhaps they weren’t meant to have a child of their own. Perhaps this child deserved better than them.

He squirms within the blanket, hazel eyes open wide, little coos leaving his lips.

_“I hope you’re not as stupid as you are rude.”_

James Potter is a quiet baby, though he will soon grow into a bullhorn of a boy. 

For now, he is content to wait on the world, watching the blurs of color and light pass him by. 

For now, he is content to listen.

* * *

“Defending someone like him.” Petunia said while painting Lily’s toenails a bright purple. “That’s only half of it, what’s the other half?”

“Oh.” Lily covered her words with a hand, thoroughly embarrassed. “It’s none of your business. I think I’m done. I think I’ll go find some socks.”

“You can’t put socks on now, you’ll ruin my work.” Petunia frowned. “It can’t be so bad.” She sounded friendly, conspiratorial, and Lily sighed, pulling her hand away. “‘What are you doing defending someone like him?’ Oh, he sounds downright horrible.” She grimaced. “At least mine’s a proper gentleman. ‘A rose for my rose’.” She sighed, a dreamy look on her face. “Better than yours at any rate.”

“He isn’t terrible.” Lily groused, pulling her knees up to her chest. “I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding. My soulmate would never-- he’d never be upset with me like that, that’s not how it works!”

“He’d have plenty of reasons to be mad at you if he wanted.” Petunia hissed. All she wanted was for Lily to admit her soulmate was best, that unquestionably, Petunia had “won”, whatever that meant. But Lily wasn’t one to give in to her sister’s whims, for better or for worse. “Between your freaky little accidents and that big mouth of yours.”

“You hate roses. You hate flowers! We both do!” Lily countered. Once, she'd felt like her sister was as similar as her reflection. That was far from true now. “You’re just saying it’s romantic because you want it to be, not because it is!”

“At least I don’t have to think too hard to make my words romantic.” Petunia smirked. “How do you suppose you’ll make yours anything but despicable?”

Something twisted in the pit of Lily’s stomach.

She didn’t know.

* * *

James lifts the edge of the gauze to see a string of cramped cursive letters carved into his chest and yelps in surprise before glancing yet again at the door. He’s never known life without the mystery of his words. His mother has told him not to look, and James, for all his antics and troublemaking, is generally an obedient child. But sometimes, his curiosity outweighs all else, and he finds himself in timeout, but he thinks his parents won’t begrudge him this.

Frank Longbottom from down the street’s words read “Franklin? That’s an old man’s name”, wrapped around his wrist like a bracelet. He’s already met her, actually -- Alice, whose uncle owns the ice cream shop in Diagon Alley. Their parents are making an awful fuss about it, and Frank’s far too embarrassed to say anything to Alice himself, so instead he talks to the James, the probably-cousin-by-marriage-somehow who haunts his footsteps, hoping to claim some teenage wisdom for his own.

Neil’s soulmate words, marching along his collarbone in a neat, happy line, say “You’re not half as bad as I thought you would be”. James asks if he’s heard them, and Neil laughs, tugging his Ravenclaw tie looser, a hint of a blush visible. 

“Yeah”, he says, and James’ heart screams with joy for his cousin. “Yeah, I’ve heard them.”

Maybe his words will be so kind. Maybe his soulmate will see him and love him immediately, like Neil’s must. Maybe he will be so lucky as to be treasured. He already sees the way his classmates look at him, like he is something wild and dangerous, something, not someone. He already knows he must fold himself inward, that he must avoid taking up too much space. He is already branded a threat, a weapon, a liar, and he is only eight and a half years old. The half is important, but only just.

He reads them out in a thready, halting voice, and his heart sinks further with each one.

“I hope you’re not as stupid as you are rude.”

He understands why his parents didn’t want him to see them. He tapes the gauze back down, feeling sick to his stomach. Of course it would be him, of all the people he knows, to be fated to misery. Maybe it’s his lot, for being so much trouble. Maybe life has put him in the worst timeout of all.

* * *

In a corner of the local park, a sallow faced boy throws branches at bushes like they’re javelins and Lily thinks she has found her first real friend. He is dirty and mean and he’s got a bruise on the side of his head that Lily can already tell isn’t from falling down, but when she asks if she can throw a stick, he smiles and says “you look like you’ve got a good arm, give it a try”. 

They aren’t her words.

It’s been on her mind lately, mostly because the opening line of Maisie’s welcome speech for the new boy was found on his wrist. (She thinks his name is Christopher but she’s honestly forgotten, in all the fuss about seeing him and Maisie as a unit, as two halves of a whole.) Severus, who has now changed pace to digging holes, goes to the same primary school as her, so maybe he was there when it happened, maybe he too got caught up in the magic of it. She asks and he shrugs, tells her his parents are soulmates and are plenty unhappy for their troubles, so he isn’t putting too much stock in his own, whoever she might be. 

“Things don’t always work out.” He says sourly. “People don’t always work out. You can’t depend on them. You can only depend on yourself.”

He makes a leaf go from brown to vibrant green in a flash just minutes later and Lily’s eyes go wide. She hasn’t told anyone about fixing Petunia’s flowers. For a second, she wishes that her soulmate is, at the very least, someone like her. Someone who knows this mystery and loves it dearly.

* * *

One of James’ top four favorite places in the world was his aunt and uncle’s house, even when his cousin Neil wasn’t in it. If his Aunt Dorea wasn’t there, it immediately became his least favorite place in the world, but today he was lucky. She was bustling around the kitchen to find the package of biscuits she’d bought especially for him in the morning while he pretended not to sneak sips of her coffee. Very few adults, save for James’ own parents, had earned his respect as easily as she had. Even when he was a baby, any instructions she gave were carried out as expediently as James could manage, and she had taken full advantage.

“You’ve come straight from school.” She said, once she’d set the package down in front of him, and James paused in destroying the packaging to look up at her with the most innocent eyes he could manage. “Do your parents know you’re here?”

“I told Waffle to bring them a note when I got here.” James grinned. His uncle had despised the fact that Neil had named their owl Waffle. Served him right for coming home late from work. “So Amma knows, at least.”

“That’s good. So I’m guessing you’ve got something on your mind, then.”

Aunt Dorea’s graying hair frizzed about her head, flyaway strands escaping the bun tied at the back of her head, as she folded her hands in front of herself, trying not to point out the fact that her cup of coffee was now half gone already. James loved her more than anyone else in the universe for it. His uncle would’ve made a fuss about it from the second he spotted the cup.

“I saw my words.” James said quietly. “Lifted the bandage and read ‘em in the mirror.”

“I see.” Aunt Dorea sighed, brows knitting together just like Neil’s did when he was upset. He knew she knew what they said -- otherwise she would’ve asked. His parents were both as close to her as he was, closer than any of them were to his uncle. “And what did you think?”

“Maybe she’s joking.” James said, feeling the beginnings of tears brimming in his eyes. “Like maybe she’s just making fun.” He ran a hand through his hair, feeling rather silly for getting upset over someone he’d never met. “If she loved me, she wouldn’t call me stupid or rude. She’d say it nicer. Like that I’m a distraction in the classroom or something.” 

“Is someone saying that about you?” Aunt Dorea asked, looking rather shocked. “James, that’s not right, sweetheart. If someone’s being rude to you, you need to speak up. Or tell your parents. Or I’ll go talk to them, they won’t be saying anything when I’m finished with them.”

James shoved a full biscuit into his mouth to avoid answering.

“Your words, though…” She tapped her fingers against the tabletop. “You know soulmates aren’t everything, right?” She reached over to brush his hair out of his eyes. “Your uncle and I aren’t soulmates and we’re happy together. We have our troubles, but everyone does.”

“Why? He’s mean.” James blurted out, before kicking the leg of the table in frustration. “Sorry. Amma says I have no filter.”

“He’s not mean, he’s just particular about how he likes things.” Aunt Dorea said with a warm smile. “He doesn’t understand that not everyone needs or wants to keep his standards. And that helps our relationship, because everything about a person does, in some way.” She tweaked James’ nose. “Someday, someone will find every reason to love you and appreciate you, and maybe they won’t be your soulmate, but that’s fine. Look for the person first, not the words.”

James nodded with a smile. Maybe the words wouldn’t matter so much at all. They still caused his chest to ache whenever he thought about them, but maybe it wasn’t the end of the world, to be disliked by the one you were fated to love.

* * *

“What are your words?” Severus Snape kicks his legs out hard, the swing he sits on jerking beneath him. His beady eyes glimmer with unabashed curiosity. 

It’s not the first time he’s asked. It’s not the first time she won’t answer with the honesty he craves.

He guards his words with his life, and Lily lets him, because Severus is allowed precious few secrets to begin with, but he never seems to offer her the same courtesy. It’s almost as if he’s decided he’s suffering enough that her life is open for criticism, every detail she refuses to share immediately a sitting duck, waiting for the gunshot of his commentary. 

This time, she’s frustrated. This time, she’s upset. So she says something she’ll regret and steels herself for the consequences.

“You didn’t say them.”

Severus’ brow creases. “Well, I could just say them now, and--”

“It had to be the first thing you said to me. Directly to me.” Lily says, and her heart aches in her chest, because someday her soulmate will look her in the eye and ask her why she’s wasting her time on someone who doesn’t deserve it.

And the thing that makes her sick to her stomach is that she already thinks she knows who her soulmate is talking about.

Severus glowers into the distance and Lily promises herself that next time she won’t rise to his bait. Next time, she won’t tell him things he doesn’t want to hear. 

Next time, she’ll keep her mouth shut.


	2. i couldn't tell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all for being so kind!!! here's chapter two, where things get worse*!!!!
> 
> *sort of?
> 
> soulmarks are a Lot. there's a lot of responsibility and agency issues wrapped up in it and soulmarks from birth feel like the sort of thing that can really fuck with your identity and agency. and we're going to see a good bit of that going forward, which will actually change canon. so it's canonverse... but only sort of, from after this part.
> 
> please let me know what you like about this and i hope you all enjoy it!!!!
> 
> -s

James kisses his parents goodbye, a strange sense of foreboding weighing him down. He feels like every step drains him fully, like he is moving through concrete rather than air, the world splintering and cracking around him with every minute movement. His parents watch him with worry flaring in their eyes, desperate to shield him from what is to come, and he remembers, belatedly, that they met each other on the train to Hogwarts. Perhaps he will be so lucky-unlucky, perhaps he will drink from that cup and hate himself for it forever.

The train suddenly looks scarier than it ever did before, a scarlet giant puffing plumes of smoke into the September air, and James climbs into the belly of the beast, shoulders back and head held high, a man going to his death with a smile on his face.

* * *

The thrill of discovery, the anticipation of newness, has always bothered Lily, rubbed at the raw parts of her soul like a cheese grater, shaving off pieces of herself that she can never quite put back the right way. But she has Severus at her side, in this as in all things, and he is steady and unshakeable. This is his world, the magical world, and he will see her through it safely. 

Lily knows magic, but to her, magic is the first rays of sun filtering through the window in the morning, the fluff of a dandelion scattering into the air, the feeling of mud squishing between toes in the spring. You can’t go to any school other than the outdoors for that. 

Severus says he trusts this one, that his mother and her mother went here before him, and so Lily goes.

* * *

James has three friends before the train has even left the station.

Sirius, whose parents didn’t even bother to see him off at the station and packed him off with his cousins (who he hates) instead, seems recklessly joyful. He’s Neil’s cousin some number of times removed, or perhaps they’re uncle and nephew. James doesn’t know and he doesn’t care, but he promises Sirius that he will tell his Aunt Dorea hello on his behalf, the next time they see each other. James hopes Sirius will end up in Gryffindor with him -- he seems plenty brave and fun, and James doesn’t want to have boring roommates. 

Remus, who looks a little testy and tired, pulled out a dog eared book the second their luggage is carefully stowed away in the overhead racks, and James instantly pegs him as the one he’ll ask questions if he ever struggles with coursework. Remus looks fearfully, wonderfully smart, and the silvery threads of scars on his face and hands don’t scare James away one bit. The book has some long, winding title that James can hardly make sense of, and Remus says it’s by a Muggle author James has never heard of. James nods like the name means something to him and he thinks he can see Remus’ eyes soften a bit for it.

Peter smiles at anyone and everyone who passes by through the compartment window, seems perfectly at peace with leaving home. Peter’s dad has been missing for years, and if James trusts Peter’s telling of the story (which he does), he’s better gone than around. It had been just Peter and his mum alone for long enough that Peter’s departure had wounded his mother deeply, so much that she’d considered keeping him home until Professor Sprout had come home and had stern words with her. 

“I was so close to missing out, can you believe it?” Peter asks, eyes bright with the flame of belonging, and James wishes he could feel it too. Instead, his hollow chest teems with trepidation, a strange, cold burning settling where his words are, like he’d held ice against it for far too long. “I was so close to not making it here. To the train, to Hogwarts.” Peter grins his toothy, guileless grin, and James shakes his hand like they’re solemn little businessmen before breaking into a laugh.

The door slides open to reveal a string bean of a boy with a curtain of black, greasy hair framing a thin, long face, pale as whitewashed picket fences, a redheaded girl standing silent beside him like a bodyguard. 

“Can we sit here?” The boy asks, and James shrugs, struck silent. His words hurt. Do they know something he doesn’t? It isn’t the boy, so it must be-- it must be--

The girl is stony faced and silent.

“Sure!” Peter pipes up. “There’s space for everyone. That’s James and Sirius, on the other bench, this one here’s Remus, and I’m Peter.” 

The new boy sits between Peter and the window, and the girl sits on James’ other side, sandwiching him between her and Sirius. She is stiff and awkward, and James wonders if she is leaving someone behind.

“What houses do you all hope to be in?” Sirius asks eagerly. “My whole family’s been in Slytherin, but--”

“Blimey, and I thought you seemed alright!” James laughs, eyes wide. His mother was a Slytherin, when she was at school, and his father had laughed when he said one was more than enough, ignoring the fact that Neil’s father (his brother) was a Slytherin as well. 

“Maybe I’ll break the tradition. Where are you heading, if you’ve got the choice.”

James lifted an invisible sword above his head, feeling glorious and brave and heroic. 

“Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart!” He grinned. “Just like my dad!”

“What’s so bad about Slytherin anyhow?” The new boy, who hadn’t bothered to introduce himself, said, a frown weighing heavy on his face. “Ambition isn’t a crime.”

“It’s nothing about Slytherin house, it’s just that everyone I’ve met that’s a Slytherin is an incorrigible bastard.” Sirius said, leaning back in his seat. “And if you want to be a Slytherin, you’re not in good company. What’s your name, anyhow? You never said.”

“Severus Snape.” The boy’s eyes narrowed, as if expecting Sirius to say something untoward. “My mother was a Slytherin. Tread carefully.”

“Never heard the name.” Sirius shrugged. 

That seemed to please and incense the boy, Severus, all at once, the tips of his ears flaming as red as his friend’s hair. James would’ve empathized at any other time, would’ve said that his mother was a Slytherin too, but that didn’t mean Severus was tied to it, but something compelled him to keep his mouth shut, reminded him that the way Severus’ eyes seemed locked on Sirius likely meant he wanted nothing to do with James. 

“You wouldn’t want to be in Slytherin anyhow.” Sirius said to Severus’ companion. “That’s where all the bullies go. You wouldn’t want to be like that, would you?”

“How dare you insult my mother like that?”

“It’s not an insult.” James cut in. He’d only known Sirius for a few short hours, but he’d always been told he was loyal to a fault. “It’s a fact. That’s what the house stands for. Ambition, cunning, stepping on others to get your way. If that’s what you want, that’s what you want.” He put his hands up. “Can’t fault that.”

“And Gryffindor is so good? You’re all stupid and call it bravery!” Severus rose to his feet, his face turning blotchy. “Bravery, courage, loyalty, all of that’s a sign of delusion, not smarts. Anyone with half a brain would choose a house that would help them to greatness instead of coddle them.”

“It’s better than being a Slytherin by any rate!” James glared at Severus, staying seated by sheer force of will. Severus Snape was far from the first person to call him stupid. That trusty blow glanced off him these days, leaving nothing but bruises behind. “Because all you’re showing me is that Slytherins like pissing on other people’s dreams for the fun of it. Is that the kind of impression you want to make?”

Severus looked to the redhead helplessly.

“I hope you’re not as stupid as you are rude.” She spoke for the first time since entering the compartment, fury burning in her eyes. “But you haven’t given us much evidence to the contrary.”

James’ heart felt like it had stopped in his chest, the burning of his words unbearable. He had so hoped that whoever said them would be joking.

* * *

James looked shocked, like she’d mortally wounded him. His hazel irises had nearly been swallowed up by pupils blown wide, his messy black hair, once combed neatly back by a mother’s hand, starting to spring free from its oily hold. His right hand was pressed to his chest, just below the collarbone, like she’d punched him with words alone.

“What are you doing defending someone like him?” He stammered out, after a few moments of tense silence. “He came into the compartment ready to pick a fight and you knew it.”

“Get up, Sev. We’re leaving.” Lily hissed, her ankle suddenly heartbreakingly sore. “We don’t need to waste our time on these idiots.” 

Severus sprang up from his seat, a grateful, lovesick look on his face, and they left the compartment without a second thought, the door slamming shut behind them. She couldn’t stop thinking of James’ face, the way his jaw had hung open, the haunted way he’d looked at her, like he’d heard those words too many times before.

“No matter what houses we end up in, promise me, promise me, you won’t be friends with any of them.” Severus said. “Especially James.”

“I promise.” Lily said, still shaken. Whatever had its grip around her ankle screamed in pain. “Especially James.”

* * *

Lily Evans sits on the stool in front of Professor McGonagall and James prays that she will be anywhere else, anywhere else but--

“GRYFFINDOR!”

In that moment, he knows he is done for. The war is over. She has won. He rubs his thumb over the words she’d said to him, what she’d thought of him, what she likely will think of him. He’s heard of plenty of soulmates who just don’t work out. He is eleven, and love, while only four letters long, is too big a thought for him. 

He’d hoped his soulmate would be his friend, but it seems he is not even that lucky.

* * *

Lily is already sitting at the Gryffindor table, chatting to a lovely young man named Frank Longbottom, when James Potter is called up. He’s combed his hair again, since she saw him last, but he still has the shell shocked look she’d left him with. She’s almost glad for it, as she spots his hands shaking as the hat comes down on his head, resting atop his too big ears for just a fraction of a second before shrieking out its judgment. 

“GRYFFINDOR!” 

That couldn’t be right. He’d said he wanted to be in Gryffindor, but the two of them weren’t the same. She would have never been so cruel to someone she’d just met. Severus had only been defending his mother, and James and Sirius (who was also at this table, damn him) had pounced upon him like great beasts, ripping at tearing at Severus’ sense of safety. They were lions, weren’t they? 

She’d chosen the lion’s den willingly. Or it had chosen her. From across the Great Hall, Severus stared balefully at her. She chanced a tiny wave. He did not wave back.

* * *

James could hardly stomach the idea of dinner, despite the growling emanating from deep within him, picking at a piece of bread and a potato for nearly half an hour before Sirius gave up, grabbed the fork James had been toying with, and shoved the food in James’ mouth himself.

“There you go.” Sirius said gruffly, with all the annoyed pride of an older brother. James remembered, belatedly, that he’d mentioned a younger brother who was to join them at Hogwarts next year, Reg-something. He’d ask Neil if he knew anything about the boy in his next letter. “Now do the rest yourself, you twit.”

“Thanks.” James whispered hoarsely, and Remus scooted closer to him, until they were pressed against each other from shoulder to hip. James waited for him to speak, but Remus was too busy wolfing down food for words, but he paused to smile at James every so often, as if to set his nerves at ease. James flicked a chunk of bread at Peter, who howled in surprise, and Sirius smashed a pumpkin pasty into the side of James’ head. They all dissolved into a circus of madness, flinging food at each other and screaming at the top of their lungs.

James almost forgot about Lily Evans until his mood floated back down to earth, only to see her glaring daggers at him as he shook pastry crumbs out of his hair. He didn’t need her to be his friend. If his soulmate was his enemy, that suited him well enough. He didn’t have any shortage of those.


	3. when hell freezes over

“Why won’t you talk to me?” Lily chased Severus down the hallway. He looked like he’d seen a ghost. No, there were plenty of those floating around the halls ominously. He looked like he’d seen a ghost of his past. He looked like he’d seen her, truly seen her, for the first time. “Sev! Stop!”

“Don’t call me that!” He hissed. “Not where someone could hear us!”

“Not where--” 

He swept her around a corner, glancing over his shoulder. 

“My housemates don’t like Gryffindors, that’s all.” He shrugged casually, as if being told the one home you’d found in an unfamiliar old castle was hateful was a daily occurrence. “They’ll like you if they get the chance.”

Somehow, Lily thought they wouldn’t.

“Sure.” She said, feeling something within her chest tighten. “I’m sure they would.”

* * *

In the Gryffindor boys’ first year dorm, four boys orbited each other like planets.

James had become quite close to Remus, out of his dormmates, though neither had made too much of an effort. It was as if he and Remus had naturally fallen together, both half submerged in their own little words, clawing their way to the surface only to confer about homework and half-listen in class. He hadn’t thought Lily disavowing him would hurt nearly so much, but it did, festering like an open wound. 

His soulmate, the person the universe had picked for him, thought he was awful. Irredeemable. She’d convinced herself he was disgusting. It drove a red hot knife into the heart of him and twisted and twisted until he thought his guts would spill out onto the floor, like a pomegranate cracked open, seeds flying every which way. 

He’d spent so many years telling himself she was lying. It hurt to know that she wasn’t, but he thought that some small part of him had known all along. It just hadn’t wanted to speak up, for fear that this time, this one time, things might go right. But they hadn’t, so he stretched the sore muscle of recovery and dove into his schoolwork. His parents would treasure good grades if he made them, and bad grades if he didn’t, but the work kept his mind off all the love he had to give, all the love he had been saving, that now had nowhere to go.

* * *

Lily stormed into the library, a book tucked under her left arm, her heart thumping wildly in her chest. James Potter never ceased to be annoying, did he? Of course he had to be good at Transfiguration, the one subject she was less than perfect in. Of course he was helping his friends, and her friends besides. Of course everyone had said she should ask him for help, like she could, like she even wanted to.

She sat down at a seemingly empty table, wondering who the impossibly tall stack of books on magical history belonged to, and when James Potter trooped on over to the table, a faraway look in his eyes, the annoyance simmering in her blood roiled and raged. So he was reading for pleasure while the rest of them worked? Was this what the privilege of having grown up with magic had bought Potter? Free time?

“Oh.” He said softly, pausing in the process of sitting down. “I hadn’t realized you were sitting here.”

“You were sitting here first.” She grumbled. “I don’t want to interrupt you.”

“That’s fine.” He shook his head quickly, scooping up an armful of the stack, his eyes darting to her and then away, to her and then away. “I was just leaving.” He sped away, head down and arms tight around his books, and when she called after him, reminding him that there was a second armload still scattered around the table, he didn’t come back. 

And she still hadn’t gotten to ask him her question, not that she wanted to. Maybe Severus could help. He seemed to be the only boy with a brain in his skull in the whole castle.

* * *

Going home for Christmas hols was the smartest decision James had ever made. 

The old year faded, soft and sweet, into the new, and James felt like he was leaving the disappointment and confusion behind him. Maybe next term would be a whole other creature, one in which he might be able to tolerate Evans’ presence for more than a few moments before feeling the irrepressible urge to run away. He could start practicing for the Quidditch team, now that he’d passed Flying with flying colors, and he could try out in the fall, when he’d be a second year.

A second year. It baffled him that his first year away from home was half over already. His parents had fretted and cried about it endlessly in their letters, which were filled with passionate (from his father, of course) and somewhat less passionate (from his mother, who was never one for feelings) declarations of how terribly they had missed him and how they longed for him to be home. 

And when he was, it was almost better than when he’d lived there. He’d missed the tire swing in the driveway, the music of the creaking stairs, and the smell of sambar boiling on the stove. The memories he’d held close to his heart all term paled in comparison to the real thing, and he found himself drinking in every moment as thoroughly as he could, as if some small part of him was afraid that it might melt away into nothing.

“School’s turned you quiet.” His father said, with an affectionate cuff to James’ head. His words, Where did you find that book? I’ve been looking for it for weeks!, spiraled around his forearm in James’ mother’s typewriter neat script. “Did something happen? Something you want to tell us about?”

James kept silent. He didn’t know how to tell his parents that his words had closed a door that he didn’t know would ever open again. He didn’t know if he’d want it to ever open again.

* * *

The second McGonagall posted the marks for the year, the Gryffindors and Slytherins were scuffling in front of the paper, pushing and shoving for the right to see who’d made it to the top. Lily was ruthless in her pursuit of a good eyeline, even going as far as to nudge Severus (though gently) out of her way.

“It’s Potter.” Someone whispered just a hair too loudly, with the obvious intention of being heard. “And Evans and Lupin ranked after him. Just half a mark between the three of them.”

Half a mark. Half a mark? Was that all it had come down to?

She muscled her way to the front and saw her name listed under Potter’s tied with Lupin’s for second in the class.

How had he managed it? She’d studied night and day for weeks and still, he’d beaten her out, despite Black dragging him around the castle whenever Potter could be convinced to leave their dormitory, the library, or the Quidditch pitch for anything other than a meal. This had to be impossible.

She turned and there he was, the same shocked look that she saw on the train plastered on his face, as if he couldn’t believe he’d done it. Slowly, he smiled, the corners of his lips smoothing into place, the light in his eyes spreading outward like ripples on the surface of a pond, and for a moment, she felt proud of him.

“You did a great job.” He said, and she wondered, for a moment, if the smile had been for her. “Nearly full marks. You almost had me.” He seemed genuine. From Severus, or even from Petunia, the comment would’ve been tinged with derision. No, James Potter seemed sincerely thrilled that she’d only been half a mark away from tying his score. “Whatever system you’re using, it works. You came first in Charms and Astronomy, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, well.” Lily shrugged. “It was nothing.” She didn’t know why she’d said that -- she’d studied far too long to claim it was nothing, but something about Potter made everyone adopt the same misplaced bravado he did. “You did a good job too.”

“Thanks.” He smiled even wider. “That’s really nice of you, to say that.”

“I wasn’t particularly nice to you, when we first met.” Lily cleared her throat awkwardly. On the edge of a summer, on the edge of a separation, with her last set of marks in hand, she finally felt like James Potter might not be so terrible. “I thought I should change that.”

“Oh.” James seemed unduly surprised. “That’s wonderful. I-- I’ll change that too.” He ran a hand through his hair, a silly grin on his face. “Well, uh, I’ll see you in September, won’t I?”

“September.” Lily agreed, and turned to find Severus, only to see him running down the hall, on the edge of a crowd of Slytherins, without a thought spared for her in his mind.

* * *

“GOAL! GRYFFINDOR!” 

James roared into the sky, delighted, pumping his fist up and down, as the Slytherin team booed at him, obviously disgusted by the fact that he was celebrating. “I scored the goal, you absolute ballsacks! I’lll yell if I want to! FUCK OFF!” His blood was singing in his veins, adrenaline a trampoline sending his mood higher and higher. He was a second year, but here he was, playing with the big kids and winning nonetheless.

He looked down into the stands, blood pounding in his ears, and found a familiar person holding Remus’ sign with him. 

Curious. 

He hadn’t realized Evans liked Quidditch.

* * *

“Done!” Lily yelled, so loudly that Irma Pince glared at her like she’d eaten her firstborn in the middle of the library. “Sorry.” She shrank down into her chair, ignoring James’ laughter. “Shut up, I finished first. What’ve you got?”

“Two hundred and forty-nine words.” James said, a knowing look in his eyes. “Same word count that I’ve had for five minutes now.”

“Oh, so you’re saying you let me win?”

“Nope.” James shrugged. “Just can’t find a sentence that needs an extra ‘the’.”

Their first year at Hogwarts had been marked by hatred, their second by harmless contention, but it felt like there was potential for more, now, in their third. An actual friendship, almost. James joked and laughed with her the same way he did with Remus, and on some afternoons, they could almost tolerate each other long enough to get multiple homework assignments done. For all she’d thought James Potter was arrogant and rude, he was beginning to surprise her.

She rather liked it.

* * *

“What are you doing, following us around?” Severus Snape hissed, bumping James out of the way as he stormed toward the end of the hall, Lily hot on his heels. “I’m trying to talk to my friend.”

“And I’m trying to talk to mine.” James countered. “Lily, when are you planning to study for Charms tonight?”

“You study for Charms with him?” Snape laughed. “It’s a miracle you’re passing.”

James’ jaw was clenched so tight that he thought it might shatter. Maybe it would be for the best, if he flew apart into a thousand pieces. He certainly wouldn’t have to speak to Snape then. Snape had a strange look about him, almost predatory, like the dinosaurs James had seen in his father’s Muggle history books, all sharp teeth and beady eyes. Snape would eat anyone alive to get to the top. It still confounded him how Lily didn’t see it, or perhaps refused to.

“I am studying Charms with him. He’s the best in our year at Transfiguration. We help each other.” Lily said, not allowing a hint of weakness in her defenses. “Why, do Slytherins not have study groups?”

“You could study with me.” Snape wheedled, and James’ heart sunk in his chest. Whatever fragile beginning of a thing had been between him and Lily, it was certain to be over now. Snape would always take precedence over everyone, even Remus, and he couldn’t ask her to betray her friend. Because that was how Snape would take it, if she continued to study with him.

“I could.” Lily said, voice wavering, and James knew he had to put an end to it before she looked at him, before he couldn’t say no to whatever she wanted.

“You should.” He said, voice steady as waves breaking against the shore. “I’m stupider than I am rude. And I’m quite rude.” 

Lily blanched, probably remembering that those were the first words she’d ever spoken to him, and Snape’s smile made James almost apoplectic with rage, the sick, rotten glee of it poisonous. He turned on his heel and ran before he had to see any more of it.

* * *

“Why do you want to hurt me? I was just starting to think you were better than that!”

“He doesn’t want me to be better.” James said quietly. His eyes looked bloodshot. Had he been crying? “And he’s your friend. He came here with you. I know-- I know what it’s like, wanting to keep something from home close by. Someone from home.” He ducked his head and Lily’s heart jumped into her throat, every breath tasting sour. “I want you to have your friend, still. And if that means you aren’t seen with me, that means you aren’t seen with me.”

“No.” Lily said, a fire raging within her, hotter than any rage she’d felt before. “No.”

“What do you mean, no?” James frowned, his glasses sliding further down his nose. “You can’t just say no with no context.”

“I won’t let you say those stupid things about yourself just because I started our friendship that way!” Lily blurted out. “I’m tired of you acting like I can put you second whenever I want! Sometimes I can say no to Sev and I won’t and you know why? Because he’s wrong sometimes, and sure, you are too, but not right now! Not in this! So quit acting like some self-sacrificing hero and mouth off to him like I know you want to. I’ve heard you tell Slughorn off, so I know you’ve certainly got the wit for it!”

“You’re telling me to yell at your friend. Your best friend.” James said, awestruck. “Your best friend, whose opinion you value more than anyone else’s.”

“Everyone’s a tosser sometimes.” Lily shrugged. “Especially me. Especially the idiots I choose to surround myself with. Might as well get a good yell out of it.”

“Might as well.” James smiled. Lily thought they might very well be friends forever, with this out of the way. “Might as well.”

* * *

“We’re partners today.” James said, setting his things down by Lily’s telescope. “And we’re going to look at a particular, uh, celestial body before anything else.” He turned it, with shaking hands, toward the moon, which hung full in the sky. Remus had changed yesterday night and was still asleep in the hospital wing. James’ heart ached for him -- he wanted to be with Remus far more than he wanted to be in this stupid class, but Remus wouldn’t forgive him if James let his grades slip on his account. “I fucking hate the moon.”

“You hate the moon.” Lily deadpanned. “I learn new things about you every day.”

“I’m going to fight it.”

“Lofty goals, Potter.” Lily snorted. “Let’s finish the assignment so we can go to bed, come on.”

“We need it to be right. So Remus can copy our answers.” James said. 

“He’s out, isn’t he?” Lily’s jaw worked beneath her skin and James knew, from the look in her eyes, that she understood why he’d pointed out the moon. She knew better than to talk, of course. It was dangerous, at Hogwarts, to be too different, and both Lily and James knew that better than most of their peers. “Poor thing, in the hospital wing by himself.” She frowned. “I wish there was something I could do to help.”

“There is.” James swallowed hard. “I have an idea. But it’s complicated. It’s tough. It’s-- It’s not going to be easy. Do you want a challenge?”

“I want to do it better than you.” Lily flashed him a smirk. “Bring it on, Potter. Nothing you’re scared of bothers me.”

“Good.” James beamed. Even the moon couldn’t shine brighter than Lily’s confidence. It would be easier to bear the weight of his admiration of her if it weren’t her words on his chest. “Amazing.”

* * *

Mandrake leaves tasted awful, and were even worse when they were stuck to the roof of your mouth. Lily kept shooting covert glances at James, who grinned like he’d just stolen the last scone right out from under Peter’s nose, and she knew for a fact that Professor McGonagall was keeping an unusually close watch on them both, but she couldn’t find herself caring. They’d found themselves drifting toward each other as OWL study intensified, united by the weight of the secret they were hiding. 

With any luck, they’d know their forms before school let out for the summer.

James flourished his wand particularly aggressively and Lily broke into giggles, a hand clamped tight over her mouth in an effort to keep the leaf from falling out of her mouth. He only met her eyes for a second before he was laughing too, his eyes crinkling at the corners and his chest heaving with joy. Their classmates looked between them, bewildered, but not even Professor McGonagall’s sternest warnings could scare either of them. 

“I decided to try it.” James said, after class, when the laughter had worn off. “Living like you.”

“Like me?”

“Not being scared anymore.” James looked rather shy all of a sudden, genuine admiration in his eyes. “You said it yourself. You’re not scared of anything I am. I like that.”

Lily didn’t know what the warm feeling in her chest was, but she wanted more of it.

* * *

“Don’t touch him, Sirius!” James had hooked his arms around Sirius’ shoulders, holding his struggling friend tight against his chest. “Drop your wand, for fuck’s sake! Please!”

Sirius kicked and struggled, a dangerous look in his eyes. “Let go of me!” He spat. “Someone’s got to show the twit what his place is!”

“Do you even hear yourself?” James groaned. “Fuck you, Sirius, shut the hell up for once!” He looked away from Sirius for a split second to see Lily holding Severus back similarly, heated whispers passing between the pair, both of whom looked absolutely livid. “Lily, get him out of here!”

“I don’t take orders, Potter.” Lily snapped, but pulled Severus back a few steps. He wrenched his arm away from her, looking positively murderous. “Sev, just listen, for once--”

“I don’t need your help! When will you understand, I’ve never needed your help--”

“Why are you-- What are you doing? Defending someone like him?” James said. The words felt like a reflex, intimate and familiar. He sounded tired, like the soul had been sucked out of him. “You deserve better, Lily. You deserve to be treated right.”

“If you want a Mudblood to notice you so badly, go after Evans yourself!” Snape growled. “She does like her charity cases.”

Lily’s eyes brimmed with tears before she turned on her heel and ran toward the castle, head hung low and arms wrapped around herself. James stared after her, heart shattering in his chest, and let go of Sirius. He didn’t care what Sirius did. Snape deserved whatever he got for letting those words leave his disgusting mouth.

“Call yourself charity all you want, Snape. I’ll call myself deserving.”

James Potter, when in a pinch, only ever did one thing: he chased what he wanted. No one could ever accuse him of being too creative.

* * *

_“What are you doing defending someone like him?”_

The words had been wrapped around her ankle since the day she was born, a promise, a reminder, a rubber band smacking against her wrist every time she forgot how her kindness was always taken advantage of. She’d tried to harden her heart, to ignore every cry for help she could, to lash out instead of accept, but the one who’d been meant for her all along had borne the brunt of it. She’d chosen to play games just when the person the universe had marked for her was about to come into her life.

Her shoulders shook like mountain ranges beside a faultline.

James Potter was her soulmate. 

_James Potter_ was her soulmate.

What surprised her wasn’t that it was him -- it was that some part of her had been hoping for it for quite some time.


End file.
